A note to John after the fall from the detectives daughter
by Ibelieveinsherlock247
Summary: A letter written by Hannah that was sent to John three years after the fall, about life, hope, deductions and how to keep going. Please review


Dear John

Hello, It's me Hannah, how are you? I miss the blog. Ireland is a parallel universe to England. I miss Baker Street and of course Dad. Sometimes I think it's just a joke you know, that he's going to call and say it was a silly joke and to come home, that he wasn't dead. Or it was just a dream that I'll wake up in Baker Street and I'd call out and he'd appear and tell me that it was postures, that he loved himself too much to do what he did. But no, it's not a dream or a joke. He's gone. Forever I miss the adventure, the danger, his arrogance, the case's, the fights and his sociopathic ways, I even miss Anderson and Donovan! I'm sorry I left, I'm sorry about the things I said, I'm sorry I couldn't get him to talk to me, I'm sorry I couldn't help him.

I visited Aishling's grave, you know my mother. My mother. It sounds so strange, alien even, almost wrong. Nana and Granddad are all right; their accents can be very thick and hard to understand sometimes. Their teaching me some Irish, I don't particular like it, put it keeps my mind from unpleasant things. Can you get Mycroft to talk to me? Or at least tell him I don't blame him or hold anything against him, if anything I miss him. I know scary right? I don't blame him in anyway, it would have been hard on him to take in a 13 year old girl and have no experience at all. It also would have been hard to take care of a child and be the British government; the man doesn't have any time for relationships, let alone take care of a child. I don't hate you or anyone for that matter, I know I was difficult after it, if anything I'm thankful, I get to meet the rest of my family. I swear I will return to London and Baker Street, I will finish what my father started. I won't be a consulting detective, no, that was his title and it wouldn't be right. On the three year anniversary of my father's death this will arrive. I write this just to say I'm sorry, I miss you all, I love you all, I don't blame you, I miss Mrs Turners brownies, Mrs Hudson saying she wasn't are housekeeper though she acted like one.

I have one request, I know your limp is coming back and you're going to your psychiatrist Ella again, forget Sherlock and Hannah Holmes, I'm fine, Sherlock's in a better place with endless amount of case's, forever criminals to run after and no Jim Moriarty. Don't forget completely just keep us in your heart not in her head and thoughts, this is the last time you will hear from me, I need to forgive and partly forget. I know it will take time to move on but, John you fought in Afghanistan, you lost friends before, not like this but you still lost them. Just remember that all the cases, all the deductions and all the bizarre things Sherlock Holmes did was real not FAKE. He was a genius remember that, he was a genius and he was the world's only consulting detective. A unique title for a very unique man. Forgive us John Watson; I hope we have leaded you on a bizarre, wonderful, amazing adventure and you won't forget that faithful day that you took a chance on two complete stranger's, you were the most important part in this story and it has been an honour to see the battle ground of London with you and I hope we made this bizarre journey worth it.

With love, care and best wishes

Hannah, Lilith, Adele Holmes

London, Baker Street

"John there's mail" called Mrs Hudson as she walked up the stairs.

John Watson sat in his chair; the flat had become quiet and lonely when Hannah left a year ago and of course since he had… died

"John there's a letter from Ireland" John looked up as he shot from his chair over to the landlady who was coming into the living room

"Can I have it" Mrs Hudson passed the letter to John. John ripped it open the envelope and took the letter out, Mrs Hudson read it over his shoulder when John finished it he sat down on a dinning chair slightly shocked at what he just read. Mrs Hudson stood there re-reading the letter; the older woman began to cry. John stood up and hugged the older woman

"She sounds just like him, logically, but more human, I miss her so much, the poor girl"

John nodded and sat Mrs Hudson on the leather green chair; John sat opposite her in the red chair

"I was in the bathroom yesterday and I found her old pill bottles" said John with a smile

"I was cleaning the kitchen and I found his first deerstalker hidden behind the fruit bowl" said Mrs Hudson wiping her tears away, the two sat there and shared stories and remembered the two amazing Holmes


End file.
